Damn Diary
by KingofAllRight
Summary: Tom Riddle made a single brash decision that set him on the path towards becoming Voldemort; the creation of his first Horcrux. Diary Tom regrets his greatest stupidity, and seeks to fix it. Humor with a little romance, and maybe a dash of CrackFic. Features TMR/GW (post-graduation), implied H/Hr, a good but slightly goofy Dumbledore, and a Tom Riddle who shouldn't make acronyms.


"Tom, there was another attack! Hermione was petrified! Everyone is freaking out. What do I do?"

Ginny's writing disappeared, but more writing took its place. "Bring this to your friend, Harry Potter, in private. I must speak to him."

In her terrified state, she couldn't process anything beyond following the diary's instructions. Five minutes later, Harry had the small black book in his hands, "You're the one who went through my room." He realized.

Ginny nodded meekly. "Please talk to Tom. He said he would explain."

Against his better judgement, Harry took the diary up to his dorm room, opened the book, and began to write.

"Hello Tom."

"Harry Potter." He could almost feel the relief in the diary's words.

"Yes. Ginny said you needed me."

"I need to show you something. Are you somewhere private?"

Harry pulled his bed curtains shut. "Yes."

"I am going to show you another memory." The words hadn't even had time to fade from the page before Harry was once again sucked into the diary.

Harry noticed a difference or two from the memory of Hagrid that he had seen and what he was currently looking at. The same boy was there with him, with Slytherin robes and a Head Boy badge, but they were in a singular room that seemed to go on forever.

"Tom?"

The boy seemed slightly frayed around the edges. "Yes. Come. Sit."

Harry's comment of "Where?" died on his lips as two chairs appeared in front of him.

"This seems urgent." Harry pointed out hesitantly.

Tom sighed "I have a very, very long story to tell you, and I have no right to have you believe me." Harry's mild confusion did not improve. "I shall start out with the worst bit of news, yes?" At Harry's nod, Tom drew out his name and the rearranged it into "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT."

Harry toppled backwards, but quickly popped up, wand in hand. Tom didn't move. "Like I said, that was the worst bit. Now sit."

"You're Voldemort."

"Yes, and technically I have you trapped here for as long as I like. If I wanted you dead, you would be. Now sit."

Harry listened, but kept his wand out.

"Have you ever had a plan?" Tom began. "A plan for anything really, but a bigger plan would work better..." He trailed off. "But something goes wrong during the first step and everything else goes to hell?"

Harry shrugged. "Hermione would probably understand that better than me."

Tom nodded, "Well, I had a plan."

"The rule of the purebloods." Harry spat.

"No, child. Much before that."

"Child?"

"I'm not going to call you 'my boy.' Dumbledore used that phrase. I hated it then, and I hate it now."

"Fine." Harry muttered. "Get on with it."

"I grew up in an orphanage. Life was unpleasant, and the room was ruled by the biggest, strongest, and meanest. As I wasn't the biggest and strongest, I had to settle for the third option. But then I went to Hogwarts. I was sorted, and found that I was accepted. People looked up to me. The skills that I acquired at the orphanage that allowed me to not be beaten there, allowed me to build a base of people who looked up to me, here. I could speak to snakes. Command them, if I wished. And here, I was not a freak for that ability."

Tom sighed. "But I was a child. I wished for family." Tom smirked, "I was frightfully brilliant, and terribly resourceful. I found out about my father's side of the family, and my mother's. My mother, Merope, was a pureblood witch from a pureblood family. The Gaunts, they were called. They were inbred to the point of being Squibs, but they could still brew Potions. Merope saw a young man walk by regularly. She offered him a drink spiked with a love potion, and he was ensnared. His name was also Thomas Riddle. He was a Muggle."

Harry blinked, "You're a Halfblood?"

"Yes, and a lower quality Halfblood than yourself. But that doesn't matter. So, I located my mother's family, who instantly hated me. Merope died giving birth to me, which I'm sure they blamed my father and I for. They knew what Merope had done, and they knew that I wasn't pure like they were."

"You didn't take that well, did you?"

Tom waved it away. "I wasn't much surprised. I stupidly decided to visit the other side of the family, just down the road. My father was still there, after all those years. He knew who I was, too. He also knew what Merope had done to him. He greeted me with a gun."

"Bloody hell."

"Not quite. I was a bit of a talent at Transfiguration by that point, and a standard rifle won't scratch a wall of stone. My massive conjuring exhausted me, unfortunately, and I never noticed that my uncle and grandfather had followed me. They used the distraction to murder my father, and then tried to turn their wands on me. Exhausted or not, I was easily able to overcome them. I killed one of them, quite on accident I assure you, and then stunned the other. I spent a few minutes trying to think of a solution, but the only thing that would come to me was to remove myself from his memories. So I adjusted Morfin's memories, altering myself out of the entire scene. Then I left him on the road and returned to Hogwarts. I believe he was sentenced for their murder, but I couldn't really be bothered to care."

"This sounds absurd."

Tom agreed. "I don't doubt it. I would offer to take truth serum, but I'm not exactly in a position to do so."

Harry nodded. "How does that relate to you being here, though?"

"My other stupidity." Tom wryly replied. "I was always of the opinion that nothing should be hidden. All knowledge should be shared, researched, and understood. I came across some very questionable works regarding the soul, and I inquired about them to my Head of House. One of these works was the creation of a Horcrux. Essentially, you could tie a portion of your soul to an object, and as long as it remained intact, you couldn't pass on. There are further rituals explaining what is needed to bring oneself from being without a body to having a new magical meatsack for your soul to reside in, of course, but the purpose of the Horcrux was to allow me to essentially cheat death."

"It sounds really dark." Harry commented.

"It was. But keep in mind, it was merely idle research on my part. Up until I was standing over my uncle and grandfather, already having killed one of them." Tom sighed again. "The beginning of the Horcrux ritual requires a cold-blooded murder, and although I did not wish to kill Marvolo, I did want him dead. He had rejected me, and then he had a hand in killing my father. That was, apparently, close enough to split off a portion of my soul from the rest of it."

A table suddenly appeared with a pitcher of water and two glasses. Tom poured himself a full glass and slowly drank it. "I carried a small black book on my person at all times. It was a complete log of all of the various research I had completed over my years. You've doubtlessly seen it somewhere, I assume?"

"The diary. You turned it into a Horcrux." Harry stated.

"I did. And then I did my third stupid thing of the day."

"What was that?"

"Have you ever been in pain emotionally and wished that your emotions could just cease to exist?" Harry became very still for a moment, "I suspected so. I was in pain, and a child, and had a way to make all of my emotions disappear. In one day, I set in motion the events that ended all of my immediate family, created my first Horcrux, and pushed all of my humanity into it. I stopped being Thomas Marvolo Riddle and turned into Lord Voldemort on that day."

"That sounds like a really bad day."

"You have no idea." Tom paused again, "Anyways, insane me decided that it would be an excellent idea to put compulsion charms on the whole thing. The student would need to open the Chamber of Secrets and set the damn snake on the students. The student would need to write into the diary. The diary would slowly siphon off their life force until Avada Kedavra! ...my soul piece, in the student's body, free of charge."

"You're taking over my body." Harry stood up quickly, wand in hand again.

"Not at all." Tom still hadn't moved. "Insane me forgot that not-insane me wouldn't want to do this. I am using your life force, but only a very specific piece of it. See, you have a scar given to you by me. Part of my soul is imbedded in that scar, and it wishes to stay there. But it is losing. Within minutes, I will have reabsorbed the soul piece of mine that you currently carry, and with it I will have all of my old memories, with none of the insanity."

"Why would I believe you?"

"Because when I let you back out, your scar will be no more." Tom stood up. "I do have a request to make. Keep this diary away from Ginerva. She is still susceptible to it. There will come a time when she is old enough to write in it and be unaffected, but for now the compulsion still lingers. That compulsion is why I still wish to set the Basilisk on the students, though it has worn down enough that I see it as a stupid idea now." Tom shook his head, seemingly clearing it, "Keep the diary safe and away from Ginerva, and keep an eye on her."

As everything started to fade away, the realization hit Harry like a Hippogriff. "You fancy Ginny?!"

Tom's panicked look said it all.

* * *

"Tom!"

"Ginerva, give the diary back to Harry Potter."

"Emergency. He's returned!"

"Harry has returned? I was unaware th-"

"No, you dolt. Voldemort has returned."

"Is Harry Potter well?"

"In the infirmary. He'll recover."

"Go give him the diary, Ginerva."

"But Tom, it's been three years!"

"With any luck, it will be three more."

Ginny huffed, slamming the diary shut. She opened it again. "Tom? It's Harry."

"I recognise your handwriting, Ginerva. Give the dairy to Harry Potter."

She huffed again. Damn sentient diaries.

* * *

Harry once again sat with Tom. "That c-c-curse b-b-bloody h-h-hurtssss."

Tom sighed, "I am fixing it as we speak."

"H-h-how?"

"The three unforgivables are a specific brand of curse. With many spells you can copy the wand motions and incantation and achieve your result without fully knowing what they accomplish. The unforgivables are the exception to this rule. You have to truly mean for them to come to pass, or you'll just be wasting your time. They allow the will of the caster to overtake and act upon the body of the victim. As I am of one soul with the one who caused you pain, I can remove it. It is a slow process, and you will still need to recover, but the nurse should find your state tomorrow morning to be quite a surprise."

Harry nodded, still clearly in pain.

Tom continued. "Voldemort is back. I assume he used a ritual with bone of the father." Harry nodded again. "That's perfect. I will have control over his body." Harry's head snapped up, "Same soul, remember? It's not a real body. It's merely a magical construct. So I'll be able to reabsorb the Horcruxes, or destroy them, and then disassemble his body. All I would need to do is launch a Legimency attack on him. I have more of his soul than he does, so his construct would accept my commands over his own.

"I hate to rain on your parade, but you're kinda stuck here."

Tom waved a hand away, "That's easily fixed. I have you."

"I thought you weren't going to take over my body."

"That won't be necessary. You are a Parselmouth as well."

"I'm not doing a dark ritual to bring your ass back."

"Again, you won't have to. Hold on."

Harry's life resumed, with an odd difference. "You're in my head" he muttered.

_"Yes I am, now get moving."_

"Where?"

_"Second floor. Bathroom with Myrtle."_

Ten minutes later, Harry was hissing at a sink. Another ten minutes put him into the inner portion of the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

"Now what?"

_"The magic here strengthens me. It is of my line, after all. Call the Basilisk."_

"No bloody way!" Harry yelled out.

_"It will listen to you, you dolt!"_

"Got that line from Ginny, did you?"

**"Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."**

Harry started once he realized that it was in fact he who had spoken. Or, rather, hissed. "You bastard. We're going to die!"

**"Great Snake, become one with the artifact before you. This I command!"**

"Stop doing that!"

_"Wait here, Harry Potter. We shall meet soon."_

Harry did not, in fact, wait. He found that his legs were much improved as he raced through the Chamber. The blinding flash of light didn't stop him, nor did the echoing sigh of relief.

"Harry Potter!"

That voice stopped him. "Tom?"

Rapid steps sounded throughout the tunnel until he saw the familiar face. He was relieved to see that the eyes were not red. "Bloody hell. It is you."

"It is I. I have much to do. Does Dumbledore still have the bright red peacock of his?"

"Fawkes?" The bird appeared, which scared the hell out of Harry. Tom smirked.

"Hello. To the Headmaster's office." Tom said. Fawkes screeched. "Yes, I know who I am. Take us there." Fawkes screeched again, but did as asked.

They tumbled onto the floor of Dumbledore office, "Harry, my boy, who is- Tom." His wand was out in a flash.

"Dumbledore." Tom returned. "Have you ever done something so stupid that you did two other stupid things to make up for it?" Harry suspected that this inquiry caught the Headmaster off-guard, but you could never really tell with him."

"I have, Tom, but I suspect that our definitions differ from one another."

Tom sighed, "Perhaps. Do you have Veritaserum?"

Dumbledore's eyes did widen that time, "Yes."

"Start with a memory or three. I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, hereby give Albus-too-many-bloody-middle-names-for-me-to-remember-Dumbledore, permission to access my memories and test for their validity, so mote it be." There was a flash following the oath.

Harry was privileged enough to see Albus Dumbledore truly shocked. It wasn't a sight he would soon forget. "Harry, you'd best get back to the infirmary before the Matron notices your absence." Tom said over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing?"

Harry turned to look back at him. "Yes, Tom?"

"Ask the damn girl out already, before she settles for the redhead." Harry appeared to have a sudden coughing fit.

Tom's smirk said that, after three years of waiting, he'd gotten payback on Harry Potter for that snark about fancying Ginerva.

Tom would always have his revenge.

Always.

* * *

A half hour and two headaches later, Albus and Tom sat in comfortable chairs with headache potions and firewhisky.

"I fucked up, didn't I?" Tom said to no one in particular.

"We all had our fair share, I think." Albus acquiesced. "What will you do now?"

"Absorb most of my soul back, and destroy the stupid construct he made. Maybe come back and teach Defense."

"You still wish to teach here?"

"This is the only home I ever knew, you f-" Tom sighed. "Yes. I could guarantee two years of teaching, at minimum, and that the curse would be broken. I spelled it so that it would continue until I personally held the post."

Albus nodded, "Perhaps. Speaking of soul pieces…"

"I dealt with Harry Potter's two years ago, hence his scar having disappeared."

Albus started, and then smiled wide. "That's wonderful, my boy."

Tom scowled. "I hate that turn of phrase. I am not your boy. I am not anyone's boy. You made me go back to that fucking place summer after summer. The Muggles fucking dropped bombs on us from the bloody sky, you bastard! I am NO ONE'S BOY!"

"Perhaps not." Dumbledore allowed.

"You do it just to piss me off."

"Certainly not, my-"

"Don't you fucking dare, you old coot." Dumbledore's light chuckle was drowned out by Fawkes' indignant squawk. "Shut up, you miserable flaming pigeon."

* * *

"He's sitting up there, so he must have finished off old Snakeface." Harry whispered to Ginny.

"Do you think he'll use his real name?" Ginny whispered back.

"I don't think so, Ginny." Hermione replied. "There are still people who know it."

"And finally, I wish to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Tom Larremov!" Dumbledore's voice boomed through the Great Hall.

"He's chosen another acronym, hasn't he?" Ginny whispered to Harry.

"I think so. I'll have to work out his middle name, though." Harry muttered quietly, scratching out letters on parchment. He turned bright red. "He didn't."

"What?" Ginny leaned over. Left unscathed on the parchment were the letters "O IDDL."

"Oh Merlin. He did." They both looked up at Tom to see him smirking back down at them.

"He's going to be the end of me." Ginny grumbled.

Harry snorted, "You'd love it too."

"Shut up, you dolt."

"Tell that to Professor Dildo."

"Harry?" Hermione spoke up from across the table. "Did I just hear you say…" she quickly erected a silencing ward, "dildo?" She still barely said the word, even with the bubble around them.

Harry handed her the parchment. "He didn't."

"He did." Harry and Ginny both muttered.

"You two are nearly as bad as the Twins." Hermione grumbled after talking down the small ward.

"OY! We heard that!"

"No one"

"Could ever"

"Would ever"

"Or might ever"

"Possibly be"

"Nearly as bad"

"As the wonderful we." They finished together.

"We would never strive to be, Oh Great Ones." Harry and Ginny intoned in union.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed.

"Warm tomato juice." George chimed in.

"Microwaved frog in a blender." Harry supplied.

"Lava painted red." Fred argued.

"Menstruation on a broomstick in the summer." Ginny deadpanned.

The twins flinched. "She wins."

Harry and Ginny high-fived.

* * *

No one was surprised when Tom taught for four years. Nor were they surprised when Tom got down on a knee and asked for "Ginerva's" hand in marriage. There were a few people who were surprised when Harry was asked to be the best man at the wedding, but Tom Larremov didn't have many close to him, so many said that his protege was his only choice.

Dumbledore, of course, acted as the bonder over the entire ceremony. The Weasleys had been told beforehand who Tom actually was, and for once Tom thanked the undying faith that some families had in Dumbledore. Harry's presence also helped immensely, for reasons that Tom couldn't quite figure out.

The three men stood waiting for Tom's bride to show up with her Maid of Honour. "Looking forward to the wedding, Tom?" Harry asked casually.

"Of course. Ginerva will be breathtaking as always."

Harry snorted. "Seven years later."

"It was a journey, wasn't it?"

"Will I need to pick your jaw up off the floor?" Harry quipped.

"You'll be too busy looking for bushy brown hair to manage it, you brat."

Harry only nodded solemnly in response, causing Tom to snort quietly.

"It's once again time to celebrate love. Isn't it, my boy?"

"Not your boy." Tom ground out.

"Harry, my boy, have you and Hermione planned a date?"

"I'm not your boy either." Harry muttered.

"Alas, when may I earn that right?"

"When Hermione forgives you for placing me with the Dursleys."

Dumbledore's wince was slight, but Harry and Tom both caught it. "Surely she isn't still-"

"Cupboard under the stairs." Harry cut him off flippantly.

Tom whistled, "That's going to be another decade-"

"-Maybe two-" Harry cut in.

"My boy" they finished together.

Dumbledore twitched again, but his eyes held their twinkle. "I shall be patient, for the power of love heals all."

The other two glanced at one another. "You hold him down while I pummel him?"

"Only if we get to switch after a minute."

"Two minutes."

"Fine."

The ladies appeared just in time for the esteemed Headmaster. "Eh. Raincheck on that, Tom?"

"Most certainly, Harry."

Albus continued twinkling merrily.


End file.
